


Dousing the Fire

by pansybow



Series: Fem!Lio Gets NonConned [1]
Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Derogatory Language, F/F, Female Kray Foresight, Female Lio Fotia, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23972758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pansybow/pseuds/pansybow
Summary: Lio might have been captured on purpose, but she didn't count on Kray separating her from the others and finding a different way to break her.
Relationships: Kray Foresight/Lio Fotia
Series: Fem!Lio Gets NonConned [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818853
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	Dousing the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is baby's first non-con fic. Be gentle! Unbetaed because I am way too ready to post this.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty," Kray says, and nudges the Burnish bitch with her boot. 

The girl on the floor snaps her eyes open, alert, and Kray knows she was never asleep. Just like she also knows Fotia wasn't captured by accident--not that her escape plan will work. 

With her light hair framing her face and the white ruffles of her blouse softening the point of her chin, she looks almost angelic. If only it weren't for the burning hatred in her glare and the evil power beneath her skin. 

The chains on her hands clank beautifully as she sits up.

"I don't care what you do," Lio says, defiant even when she's at the obvious disadvantage, "but release the others."

What a stupid martyr. Kray laughs. What a liar, to act like she, as a Burnish, is capable of anything beyond destruction and self-preservation. Kray knows the truth of it.

Kray gives her a smile, indulgent and completely false. "Perhaps," she replies. She has plans for all of them, in fact, but there's no harm in seeing the lengths their leader is willing to go to for them. How far she's willing to degrade herself for a bunch of criminals. "You'll agree to everything, you say?"

Fotia takes a breath, her shoulders tense, but nods.

This will be entertaining.

Stepping closer until their chests touch, Kray lays her palm on Fotia's cheek. Fotia has such a beautiful, delicate face. It infuriates her. "You will regret submitting to me almost as much as you will come to regret being Burnish."

Her hands explore Fotia's body, fingers dragging over her lips, over her chest. The girl is so petite. So fragile-looking, even though that's another lie. The fine bones of her wrist are so slender they're dwarfed by the block cuffs that keep her powerless.

"Ah, these are staying on," Kray tells her. "I'm not having you attack me." 

Dr. Ardebit and Biar had both advised her against seeing Fotia at all, but they did not understand. They thought of Fotia and her merry little band as simple terrorists to be eradicated as quickly as possible.

And that was true, to be certain. But she wanted to lay eyes on the girl who had ruined the careful control Kray had over the city. She wanted to see, up close, the terrible woman who had wrestled the self-sabotaging and easily-villainized Burnish into something resembling a rebellion, before she crushed her into ash.

The hatred she felt towards Lio Fotia was the most she'd allowed herself to feel in a while.

"Sit up," Kray commands.

Fotia narrows her eyes at her and doesn't move. She does not speak.

With a sigh, Kray easily yanks her body into the position she wants, propped against a wall, the block cuffs hooked above her head. Kray rips Fotia's jacket and blouse open, the zipper teeth breaking and buttons scattering on the floor. Fotia wears nothing beneath her blouse, and the cold air immediately makes her nipples perk up.

It's unfortunate there's not a bed or some other useful surface. Kray will have to speak with the staff. For now, she lets herself sink to her knees, and notes, with pleasure, that the floors have at least been cleaned enough to keep her white stockings pristine.

"Look at this," she tells Fotia, and then strokes white-gloved fingers over the fair skin of the girl's small tits. She's so flat and smooth, and Kray takes a moment to squeeze and pull at the little amount of flesh there is. It barely fills her palm. "Are you even old enough for what I'm about to do to you? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were a little boy."

Fotia breathes out harshly, but gives no other response.

"I find it very difficult to believe there's nothing you want to say to me," she says, but the silence remains, even when Kray pinches a rosy nipple between her fingers.

Tsking, Kray runs her hand down Fotia's chest, over the flat plane of her stomach, the skin pebbling with goosebumps. She feels the hint of ribs beneath Fotia's flesh, and Kray imagines all the ways she could end the Burnish right here. There are all sorts of devices in this room, and Kray always carries a gun with her. But no, she will not do that--she needs Fotia alive for now.

Her pants are next, pulled down around her ankles. There's a tiny scrap of fabric left covering her, and for some reason Kray feels _furious_. The pyro bitch is ruining lives and killing innocent people, and still she finds time to care about her appearance and hardly covering her slutty cunt with lacy strings.

Kray rips those, too, and tosses them behind her.

Body bared, Fotia looks even smaller. There is a smattering of bruises on her thighs and shins, likely a result of her fighting the guards. She refuses to look timid, though, still staring at Kray without fear. She looks as though she's ready to be martyred. How far will it take to get her to give up?

Her hands rest on Fotia's thighs, and she parts the legs just enough to see a hint of pink between the light, blonde hair. A pretty little pussy waiting for her.

"Ah, but look at this. I suppose it's true you're a little girl, not a boy." Kray asks. Truthfully, Kray does not know how old Fotia is, whether she is a girl or a woman. It doesn't make a difference.

Again, there is only silence. That's alright. She'll get there--she'll be begging for this, like the useless slut she is. Already, she's trembling beneath Kray's touch.

Kray removes her glove. "Did those two whores you call generals touch you here?" she asks. Her fingers form a vee and spread open Fotia's pussy, the dusky pink of her glistening with wetness.

Try as she might to deny it, she clearly likes this.

"None of your business, Foresight," she growls, the first words she's spoken since Kray started touching her.

Kray smiles--good. "Mm, or perhaps you preferred one of the men. You probably let any of them get their dick wet in you."

With just a little bit of teasing over the small, hard nub of Fotia's clit, Kray can feel her shivering and growing even more slick. Kray can almost smell her at this point, and she slides her fingers further down through the wetness of her.

Fotia bites her lip on a whimper when Kray rubs her entrance with a single finger. She tries to dip further inside, but meets resistance. The girl is clenching herself tight, trying to keep Kray out.

Kray shoves Fotia's legs and knees as far apart as the ankle cuffs will allow. It's still not enough--she wants to flatten Fotia to the ground, and this is just in her way. She reaches for the center of them, in a groove that recognizes her fingerprints, and the fall off of Fotia's dainty legs with a sudden thunk.

There's a split second between them, when Fotia sees her opening and brings her legs up. But Kray was prepared, and she's bigger, and she pins her down with one hand on her waist and the other on her leg. Fotia makes an attempt to kick, but she's helpless beneath Kray's weight on her.

Fotia's milky-smooth thighs, generously plump for someone so slender, spread wide, and the delicious spot between her legs opens up. It gives Kray a beautiful view of Fotia's pussy, of the delicate little hole waiting for her between the folds.

"Stop," she grits out. "I haven't--"

Her protest cuts off with a quiet cry when Kray fucks two fingers into her cunt.

"Did you not say you would do what it takes for me to leave the others alone?" Kray asks, frowning at her. "Stop making this difficult."

God--she's so _tight_. Kray can feel each bump of the muscle inside Fotia clinging around her fingers, the way it struggles to part for her intrusion. It almost feels like fucking a girl dry, but Kray still feels slickness sliding against her wrist and pooling around her knuckles. Fotia is wet, plenty wet, but it doesn't help at all.

Fotia struggles, tries to push away from her, but she keeps her pinned. She works her fingers as far as they will go inside her, ignoring the hiss she gets in response.

Until now, this was about taking her up on her ignorant self-sacrificing offer offer, about using it to break her. But watching Fotia's eyes tear up as she squirms… well, perhaps there is no use denying there is more to this.

Perhaps there is no harm in letting herself enjoy things a little. If this were any other situation, she might keep Fotia like this, do this and more--she easily envisions making Fotia kneel between her legs, making her lap at her until her face is soaked--again and again until she no longer protest and learns to expect it, to love it.

Unfortunately, there are other needs, and this will likely be a one-time occasion. She'll make it count. It's not like anyone will be around to expose her later for this.

"Stop it! You inhuman--" Fotia's arms strain and pull, but she gets nowhere. She's never been willing to just give in and make things easy for Kray.

Kray rubs her thumb at the wet peak of Fotia's clit again, but her pussy refuses to open up any further for her, and with a growl she removes her fingers. When she glances down, there's the slightest tinge of red in the wetness that drips out of her and down further. It seems she was telling the truth about being untouched.

"Don't worry," Kray tells her, in a placid voice, knowing it won't actually be reassuring at all. "This is disappointing, but my goal here is not to _unnecessarily_ damage you. There are other options."

It's the truth, mostly. Kray calculates, and Kray wins. Winning here means destroying any dignity Fotia has left. The image of Fotia's tear-stained face and blood between her legs from shoving inside her might be appealing, but would that desecrate her as much as if Kray fucks her and she cries guilty tears of pleasure? The path is clear.

Her fingers follow the trail of slick arousal until she's prodding her fingers at Fotia's asshole and sliding inside, again two at once.

The girl _yelps_.

Kray brings her other hand down in an open-palm slap against Fotia's pussy. The result is a satisfying wet smack, and Fotia's hips jerk.

Fotia's ass opens up for her much more easily, and Kray thrusts her fingers in a few times, quick. Fotia is still gasping in surprise; her facial expressions are so transparent and easy to read, and despite Fotia pulling and straining her arms as she makes a fruitless attempt to get away, Kray can also see the red flush that goes from her face down to her chest and feels the way her pussy leaks even more, dripping down to her ass.

Kray pulls away, and pulls up the skirt of her uniform. It bunches around her hips and stomach, revealing the toy she's had hidden with her.

Fotia's eyes widen when she sees. "I will murder you if you put that in me, Foresight!" Fotia shouts and bucks her hips, and it makes no difference.

The fake cock was tucked into her waistband before, but now it's free, held in place by sturdy white leather straps around her hips. It's big and thick, pale cream in color; Kray wraps her fingers around it, admiring the smooth feel.

Her strokes rubs the other side of the harness against herself. It's custom-made to mold against her pussy as she fucks someone, with a substantial nub to tease at her clit. This will get her off, and then perhaps she'll make Fotia lick her clean.

It's her first time using it. She and Fotia are experiencing something new together. Isn't that sweet?

"You're pure evil," Fotia replies when Kray tells her that.

There's really no point in arguing ideological differences now, Kray thinks. Not with someone so misguided, so certain they're in the right.

Kray rubs the head of the strap-on cock against Fotia's wet pussy, through the wet, slick folds, letting her unwilling arousal coat the cock. She really is unbelievably wet. Fotia must have been dying to get fucked by someone, with the way it copiously dribbles out of her and wets her entire pussy, even the lips shining as Kray slides the cock through it again.

Kray teasingly presses against her entrance just to watch how she flinches. But then she guides the cock below, and presses into Fotia's asshole.

"Stop, stop!" Fotia is dewy-eyed already, doing her best to twist away. "I'll do anything else, just stop!" She lifts one of her knees to jab it at Kray, but she can't get a good angle. "You bastard," she cries, "can you even feel anything doing this or is it just to torture-- _ahh_!"

She tears up more as Kray slaps her across the face, and then her jaw clenches and she looks away.

Kray grabs Fotia's thigh and brings her leg around her waist, sinking deeper inside her. With her spare hand, she lifts her uniform dress further up and presses her tummy flat so she can watch her big cock slam the rest of the way into Fotia's tiny, sweet ass.

"No," Fotia says, " _No_ ," but it comes out as a moan. Kray smiles. The girl has a sensitive ass made for fucking, and the only thing that would make it better is if she could actually feel the tightness squeezing around her fake cock.

Kray spares a second to think about keeping her around until she can stuff her pussy full at the same time too.

The block cuffs clank against the wall where they are chained as Fotia struggles again. Kray tightens her grip on Fotia's waist and presses her, hard, into the ground as she fucks into her ass. Finally, finally, the girl gives in, and she goes lax underneath Kray's hand.

Fotia turns her head to the side again, trying to hide her face behind the fabric of her blouse that hangs there. It does little to cover the sounds she's starting to make, quiet little pants of _ah, ah, ahhh_.

Leaning down, Kray's ample chest covers Fotia's, the stiff fabric of her uniform grazing over Fotia's small tits and hardened pink nipples. Kray keeps her hips rocking into Fotia's ass, small jerks that make the nub on the inside of the harness press her own clit. She breathes into Fotia's ear, "Do you want to cum? Should I touch your slutty pussy so you can cum?"

Fotia doesn't say a word, but her other leg wraps around Kray's hip.

She laughs. Even if Fotia is only conceding so it's over soon, she's still accepting it, asking for it now. She releases the hold on her dress and thumbs over Fotia's pussy, her finger immediately slick with it.

"Beg me," she says. "Beg Kray Foresight to to make you cum from your ass being fucked like the disgusting Burnish whore you are."

Fotia's head turns back and her eyes snap to Kray, fury alight. "I am proud to be Burnish," she replies through her teeth, her breath short but voice firm. "We do not beg."

Obviously Kray has not gone far enough, then. "You are _insufferable_." She's going to make Fotia cum on her cock, whether she likes it or not. She fucks into her ass over and over, pulling out and thrusting back in, moving her thumb in quick circles over Fotia's slippery little clit.

She watches Fotia bite her lip and muffle another moan while her legs squeeze around Kray's waist. Kray presses the cock in deep, rolling fast and steady, still stroking Fotia's clit as the inside of the harness rubs against hers and brings her closer, too.

Kray feels Fotia begin to tremble in her legs, her body tightening and twitching, just as her own clit throbs and her orgasm rockets through her.

She clenches at Fotia's hip, catching her breath, and then lets the strap-on slip out. Fotia's legs fall open, and she pulls them up to her right away, obscuring herself from Kray's view. A little late for modesty, but Kray's done with that part of her, so she allows it.

"So many protests," Kray sighs, "and yet look how easy you were. You will need to clean up that wet spot you left, of course," she tells Fotia. She unclasps the buckles of the harness and drops the strap-on to the floor. "Later. Right now there is another mess for you to clean."

The fight has left Fotia when Kray drags her entirely on the floor with just her hands above her head, still chained to the wall. She notes with satisfaction that Fotia still flinches, just slightly, when Kray stands over her face.

She lifts her dress again and gets to her knees, lowering her wet cunt to Fotia's waiting mouth.

\- - -

Hours later, anger and libido sated, Kray smooths her hair to ensure not a strand is out of place. Behind her, Fotia is disheveled, her face shining and now-bruised knees trembling.

Kray finds the idea of letting Fotia go so soon to be unthinkable. It's too easy. There's still so much she could do with the girl.

And as the woman who is going to be the savior of humanity, Kray thinks she can allow herself to be selfish about this one thing.

As soon as Kray steps outside Fotia's cell, she picks up her phone. "Change of plans," she says when Biar answers. "Find me more Burnish. Fotia is no longer usable as our main power source for the engine." She pauses, feeling the echoing, lingering thrum of her recent pleasure. "And move her to one of the permanent cells with a bed. That will be all."

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/wisteriacrowned)!


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